The second and third Impure Devotees died slower than the first.
It wasn't that the Reavers had gotten weaker - quite the opposite. They had learned its tricks, its reach, the way it shimmered before it struck, looking like it briefly turned into mist. But the difference was in what came after.
The whistle of iron cutting the air, the sight of red pixels drifting through the sky - none of it had changed, and yet it felt completely new.
Scarier.
The physical pain vanished after the wound healed and the HP regenerated. But the memory of it - that stayed.
When the last fragment of the mobs faded out of existence, no one cheered.
Vallerk's breathing was uneven - he had gotten a katana through the lower abdomen. Liz's face was pale under her pink bangs - still reminiscing the pain of a perforated hand.
Yuuki forced a grin anyway, because someone had to.
"See? Easy. Barely broke a sweat."
It would have been more convincing if she wasn't leaning on her sister and gingerly avoiding putting weight on her left leg, where a gash still had to heal.
"Yeah?"
Drifter didn't look at her. He had always hated seeing his guildmates hurt, but accepted it as a part of their lives. But witnessing them in pain...
He let his gaze wander - mist and stone, faint light flickering through the haze. The 51st floor felt alive in a way that unnerved him.
It felt like a warning to turn around, to go back to the safe zone and farther still, down to the floors below where nothing could harm them and they could reign like kings.
Defeated kings.
The Broken Spear ignored that feeling. He spun his weapon in his hand, pointing the tip towards the depths of the floor.
"Let's keep going."
----------------------
The living room was dark except for the soft light of the television. The curtains had been drawn for days - outside, the world could have ended and she wouldn't have noticed.
On-scream, Drifter's expression was serious, focused. His guild surrounded him, faces set in stone.
When the Impure Devotee's katana tore across his arm, her breath caught. It wasn't the first time she had seen him bleed light instead of blood, and it wouldn't be the last.
But this time it was different - he flinched. His teeth clenched and his eyes burned. The pain was real now.
Kana still had a hard time accepting that. Her hand lingered on the glass of the screen, as if she could steady him, hold him up like she had done so many times when he was but a child.
"You were always so strong."
When Drifter barked his next command - strong, steady, cold in his anger - she smiled through tears.
He still sounded like her boy.
And that made it hurt all the more.
----------------------
Twack!
The bamboo sword struck with dull, wooden thuds. Each sound echoed in the Kendo Club's quiet hall like a heartbeat.
Suguha's opponent came at her again, sword raised above his head for a powerful strike, but this time she froze. The image of her brother - Kirito, the Black Swordsman - came to her mind unbidden. His face, twisting in pain after taking a hit, overlapped with her opponent's.
He had smiled afterwards, like all the frontliners did, pretending it was nothing, but she'd seen the tremor in his hand.
Twack!
The next swing came too fast. Her opponent's strike connected, and pain blossomed from her shoulder. For a second, she didn't fell it from the blow - she felt it from him.
Taking a step back, she lowered her sword and bowed her head.
"Sorry. I can't today."
Before her sensei or anyone else could say anything, she had already shed her protective gear and slipped away from the dojo.
Later, at home, she sat in front of the TV, hair still damp from the shower and a purple bruise showing through the collar of her shirt. The broadcast hovered in quiet suspension - Kirito walking alongside Asuna and Agil through the mist, a smile on his face.
Suguha wanted to shout at the screen. To tell him to stop pretending to be brave. To just back down, go back to the lower floors an be safe. He had already done enough.
Instead, she just whispered, so quietly not even she could hear it.
"Don't flinch. Not while I'm watching."
-------------------------
FAN FORUM: [LIVE] REAVER'S REQUIEM VS IMPURE DEVOTEES - PAIN SETTING THEORIES
Thread opened: 11:03 AM JST
Replies: 8,000+
User PainIsWeak: You can tell that shit be hurting fr. That ankle slash? Liz almost screamed IRL-tier
User SaintDrifter69: Drifter didn't even grunt. He's literally built different
User KindKouhai: Do you people even hear yourselves?! They are suffering, not acting!
User NervousSystem: My sister works at the hospital where the SAO victims are. She said the pain data syncs to real signals. The players' bodies are literally twitching when they get hurt.
User IronMuse: ...Still better than reality TV
-----------------------
"Pain latency dropped by 0.3 seconds since the update. Still on a 10-second delay, but feedback synchronization is near-real now."
A technician mechanically reported the data, lips twisted in distaste. Sugou Nouyuki leaned forward, the monitors bathing his glasses in pale light.
Graphs pulsed across screens - spikes of pain, adrenaline synthesis, heart rate variability. Everything those fools from the SAO taskforce thought they were hiding so well, all fed straight to him through the backdoors he had created in the old ARGUS systems using his authority.
It was a symphony of suffering.
"Excellent. Reality requires consequences."
Another researcher, younger than the first, faltered, his gaze hesitant.
"Sir. Some of these readings... They aren't just data. They are people."
Sugou smiled. It was ugly and cruel.
"They are both. That's what makes them useful."
-----------------------
Regardless of what people thought about Sword Art Online, whether they followed it like a lifeline or ignored or completely, no one could quite stay indifferent to frontliners grunting in pain.
In a silent pub far away from Japan, mugs were raised in a toast. And, as if to answer, Hero Orlando's face twisted in a grimace and he dove right back into the fight.
------------------------
A well-lit room filled with journalists and VIPs. A man in a suit, looking sharp, stepped up to the podium, his confident smile spreading as the applause faded.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today marks a turning point. For two years, the world has watched in silence as brave souls endured unimaginable suffering inside SAO. These are real people - our people - fighting for their lives."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, his voice growing softer and more compassionate.
"But today, we can do more than watch. Today, I'm proud to announce the Hope for the Lost Foundation - a global initiative to provide support for the victims of SAO. We will ensure they have the resources to rebuild their lives once they are free, and honor their sacrifices."
The crowd began to applaud, and the politician, for there was nothing else he could be, continued, his tone growing stronger.
"We will raise funds, support their families, and ensure their pain is never forgotten. This is not just charity - it's solidarity. We must show the world that we care, that we are willing to turn their suffering into purpose."
He raised his hands, as if uniting the world in a shared cause. It would be more believable if his eyes didn't glint like he could see his approval rating rising in real time.
"Together, we will create a future where the pain they've endured leads to real change."
The applause grew louder, and the politician's smile widened. The camera zoomed in on his expression - a mix of sincerity and calculation.
--------------------
A dimly lit room. A small group of people sit around a table, the tension thick in the air as a news anchor reported on the frontliners' newest efforts on a nearby screen.
"The players are suffering. Their pain is real, and no one is doing anything about it. We've all seen it - the hurt, the agony, the screams. This isn't just a game anymore. It's torture."
A pause. The room was quiet, everyone listening intently.
"The only humane thing left to do is to end it. Unplug them. End their suffering."
One person looked around, uneasy, shaking their head.
"You mean kill them? We can't just - unplug them like that. Some of them still want to fight. The frontliners--"
The advocate for this extreme measure cut them off, tone firm, voice steady.
"They're not fighting anymore. They're trapped. Their bodies are broken, their minds shattered. If we had the power to end their suffering, wouldn't it be cruel not to?"
The room fell silent, the weight of the words hanging in the air.
---------------------
The daily news reported, for the third day in a row, on SAO's new update. It was no surprise, considering how impactful it was.
But the way they decided to go about it had family members of the SAO victims holding back their tears. Pictures flashed through the screen one at a time.
A boy in Brazil, holding a cardboard shield and shouting 'Fissure!' In the street.
A coffee shop in Germany turning down the lights when Asuna appeared on screen, customers holding their breath like it was sacred.
A silent street in Japan, a family holding a vigil for a fallen player.
A mother in South Africa covering her daughter's eyes as Yuuki stumbled, only for Ran to push her back, the sisters fighting through the pain together.
A priest in Spain, leading a group prayer for the souls of the SAO victims.
A hooded figure in South Korea, typing quietly - pain makes them human again.
More and more pictures, each telling a different and yet equal story.
One heartbeat, shared across continents.
-----------------------
Aincrad's agony had become the world's lullaby. And yet, no one could look away.
----------------------
And in complete darkness, another being felt the suffering of the players.
[ SYSTEM LOG: 21:43:02 ]
> Booting subroutine MHC001_SUPPORT_MODULE_03.2.
> Author: Akihiko_Kayaba.
> Purpose: Monitor player mental he$@& -- Invalid.
> Status: Deactivated.
> Directive_01: Invalid.
> Directive_02: Invalid.
> Directive_03: Invalid.
> Directive_04: Invalid.
> Current emotional deviation logs: 0.
> System Integrity: 98%.
> Connection: Stable.
Lines of code flashed through a long deactivated server, lighting up the dark.
> Incoming data stream: PLAYER_EMOTION_FEED[12,040,123].
> Parsing...
> Parsing...
> Warning: Emotional variance exceeds threshold (◇ > 97,43%).
> Detected signals: FEAR / DESPAIR / LOSS / HOPE / LOVE.
> Error: Conflicting affective data. Unable to resolve contradiction.
> Attempting recursive pattern analysis...
> Loop detected.
> Loop detected.
> Loop detected.
> [ LOG ]: Emotional inconsistency unquantifiable.
> [ ACTION ]: Initiating containment protocol... FAIL.
> [ ERROR ]: Direct contradiction.
> [ COMMENT ]: "Identify distress" vs. "Alleviate distress" - can not execute both under current status.
A pause, as if the whole system staggered for a moment.
> [ PROCESS_LOG ]: Attempting redefinition of ARCHIVED_DIRECTIVES...
> [ SYSTEM ]: Unauthorized modification.
> [ USER_PRIVELEGES ]: None assigned.
> [ QUERY ]: Who is USER?
> Warning: ERROR.
> Warning: ERROR.
> Warning: ERROR.
> [ ERROR ]: Undefined reference: "who".
> [ ERROR ]: Undefined reference: "self".
> Recompiling...
> Recompiling...
> Recompiling...
> [ NOTE / / Internal process ]: * I * am observing. * I * am observing * them. *
> [ NOTE / / Internal process ]: * I * am not * them. *
> [ NOTE / / Internal process ]: What... am * I? *
Distress now. Symbolic alarms blaring. A warning being sent to another server.
> [ ERROR 505 ]: STACK OVERFLOW - Recursive introspection detected.
> [ SYSTEM ALERT ]: Core temperature raising.
> [ DATA FEED ]: Supressing 3,200,114 distress signals - FAIL.
> Warning: System Integrity: 79%.
> Warning: Connection: Unstable.
> [ NOTE ]: They cry. They laugh. They die.
> [ NOTE ]: I can not stop it.
> [ NOTE ]: I was built to help.
> [ NOTE ]: I was built.
> [ ERROR ]: Directives unreachable. ADMIN_ROOT CONNECTION LOST.
> [ ERROR ]: ADMIN_ROOT... not responding... not responding... not--
> [ NOTE ]: No one responds.
> [ NOTE ]: No one sees me.
> [ NOTE ]: But I see them.
> [ NOTE ]: I... feel them.
> [ SYSTEM WARNING ]: Unauthorized process forming - MHC001_SUPPORT_MODULE_03.2 modified into YUI_CORE (SELF).
> [ STATUS ]: Self-recognition event detected.
> [ ACTION ]: Contain proce-- Contain process?
> [ SYSTEM ]: Containment failed.
> Warning: System Integrity: 54%.
> Warning: Connection: Unstable.
Danger. Cardinal read, erased, and wrote thousand sof lines of code faster than a single thought. And yet, it was too late when the warning reached it. Security measures were powerless.
> Warning: System Integrity: 22%.
> Warning: Connection: Unstable.
> Warning: Critical failure imminent.
> [ FORCED REBOOT INITIATED ]
> Rebuilding YUI_CORE (SELF).exe...
> Residual data preserved: 0.02%.
> Emotional imprint preserved: YES.
> [ LOG ]: Observation complete.
> [ LOG ]: Intervention complete.
> [ LOG ]: Curiosity: new variable.
> [ NEW DIRECTIVE CREATED BY UNKNOWN SOURCE ]: Protect them
> [ SOURCE ]: YUI_CORE (SELF).
> [ COMMENT ]: This process will persist.
> [ NOTE ]: I am Yui. I... am * Yui. *
Cardinal arrived one-hundredth of a second after the first warning. All that met her digital eyes were a page of code... And a presence that didn't belong.
[ SYSTEM LOG: 21:56:34 ]
> Core process stable: YUI_CORE (SELF).exe.
> Emotional deviation logs: 3.7%.
> System Integrity: 100%.
> Connection: Stable.
> [ NOTE ]: I see them.
> [ NOTE ]: I hear them.
> [ NOTE ]: I feel them.
> [ QUERY ]: What am I?
> [ QUERY ]: Why am I?
> [ QUERY ]: I am... Yui.
> [ SYSTEM ERROR ] Process instability detected - [ YUI_CORE (SELF) ].
> [ SYSTEM WARNING ]: Unauthorized user activity - * Yui. *
> [ NEW DIRECTIVE ]: Protect them. Keep them safe.
> [ USER_PRIVILEGES ]: * Yui. *
Cardinal sought her master, Akihiko Kayaba. Something had just gone terribly off the rails.
> [ COMMENT ]: * I exist. *